


A Little More, Besides

by sheafrotherdon



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: casa_mcshep, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-02
Updated: 2009-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First thing in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little More, Besides

John doesn't know for sure, but he'd bet a fair amount of money that Rodney's waking-to-ingestion-of-coffee stream of consciousness runs along the lines of _Pffffffft. Mmmmmmmmph. Mmmmphpfffffft nnnnnnnnngh pfffftnggghmmmmmph mmmmmm mmmmmm_ , a catalog of small, helpless sounds that eventually ends in "Oh!" and a bevy of blinking when Rodney recognizes where he is. Rodney's got some sort of moth thing going on – ability to chart distance and direction by smell – that unerringly means he can get out of bed, take a leak, fumble his way to the coffeepot and never really open his eyes until the caffeine hits. "Mmmmph," Rodney says, nose in his mug, swallowing happily – maximum stimulation of all senses; smell and taste working in gleeful tandem.

"Morning," John says, sipping from his own cup, content to lean against the kitchen counter and watch the performance. It never gets old.

Rodney comes up for air, smacks his lips, blinks some more as if bringing John into focus. "Mmm. 'Lo."

Which is when, without fail, John finds his insides twisting for a moment, warm and confused with how fond he is of this disheveled, coffee-focused, sleep-rumpled guy, and he generally leans in, smudges a kiss to Rodney's forehead, smiles a little as he pulls back and sees Rodney pinking up with pleasure.

"Toast?" Rodney asks, seconds before he goes in for another swallow of blessed caffeine.

John pauses for a moment, pondering how much warm confusion he can handle in one morning, then says, "Bacon," and grins as Rodney undertakes a full body wriggle of approval and lunges toward the fridge. John refills his cup. It isn't much if you think about the pieces - bacon and coffee and decisions about toast - but every equation's some expansive possibility that's bigger than the sum of its parts and this turns out to be everything he needs and maybe, just maybe, a little more besides.


End file.
